


Beauty in the Eye (and Hands) of the Beholder

by TR33G1RL



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:34:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27830845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TR33G1RL/pseuds/TR33G1RL
Summary: Izo likes beautiful things, and he finds one Basil Hawkins to be very beautiful.-A drable for this very random ship that I meant to finish a while ago.
Relationships: Izou/Basil Hawkins
Comments: 9
Kudos: 19





	Beauty in the Eye (and Hands) of the Beholder

It’s a well-known and indisputable fact that Izo, 16th Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, has a particular fondness for beauty in all of its shapes and forms. He enjoys everything from intricately welded jewelry to simple spring blooms, from exquisitely flavored banquets to heartfelt songs, from the sight of calm landscapes to the bustling of a marketplace. ‘Beauty is found everywhere,’ Izo explains to his brothers with a curve of his lips that’s as graceful as the stretching of a contented cat, ‘And I am not so arrogant as to believe that one type of beauty is better than the rest.’ His brothers simply roll their eyes at this statement as Izo fondly watches the smoke rise from his still-warm pistols.

And, true to his words, Izo doesn’t hold beauty of one type above any other; a melodic song is equal to a watercolor painting is equal to historical architecture is equal to the sunrise reflected off the waves. All things beautiful stand evenly with the rest, none higher and none lower than each other. Beauty, no matter how it is expressed, is beauty, and Izo will always appreciate it however he finds it. 

However, though Izo  _ objectively _ knows that all beauty is to be appreciated equally, he finds that when it comes to the people he’s attracted to, he has a very certain type of beauty he enjoys. It took him a great deal of thinking - and an even greater time in bed with several one-night lovers - to come to the conclusion that Izo has a  _ type. _ This ‘type’, as far as Izo can tell, only needs to meet a few requirements to earn his attention, though they are few, are a rare combination. He wants someone who is elegant but grounded, mysterious yet forward. Izo wants a charming silver tongue paired with a brutal, ruthless attitude and hands that show a strategic mind.

Lucky for Izo, that’s exactly what he finds when he spots a blonde swordsman at the bar of the island he’s just landed at. 

Izo slides into a seat at the bar, right next to the infamous Magician, with enough grace to draw the attention of everyone around him. Even the dark red - piercingly so - eyes of Basil Hawkins can’t resist darting over to see who has the courage to breach the bubble of space that no one else in the bar has yet to even approach. The gaze lingers for barely a moment and a half, but Izo is a gunman; he knows the importance of a second. To have gained even a single moment, not to mention an added fraction of another, means a great deal. The corners of his lips pull into a confident, fox-like grin as he gives a subtle wave of his hand to draw the attention of the bartender, who takes his drink order before turning to make it.

As the bartender busies himself with pouring liquor into a glass, Izo turns his attention and body to face Hawkins, who sets his drink down without a sound. Hm. No reluctant sigh or annoyed huff. A sign in Izo’s favor. The perfectly-painted smile twitches upwards as his eyes follow Hawkins’ fingers as they elegantly move away from the crystalline glass before trailing over the smooth surface of his gold-embellished tarot cards. His hands are something artful in themselves; well-trimmed nails, minimal callouses on the fingers and palms, strong bones and veins. Every movement Hawkins guides them into is graceful, power so confident that it doesn’t need to make any show of force off the battlefield.

Izo likes those hands. He thinks he would like to feel them for himself - he would like to feel those hands  _ on _ himself.

Clearing his throat, Izo allows a sensual smile to play on his lips and a sparkling suggestion twinkle in his kohl-lined eyes. “You’re Basil Hawkins, right?” he asks, his voice soft as song and sweet as spice. “A member of the Worst Generation, known to many as ‘The Magician?’”

The flint-sharp gaze turns back to Izo, acknowledging his words with a small nod. “I am. And you are the 16th Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, Izo,” Hawkins replies evenly as he shuffles through his tarot deck, the cards moving elegantly through his fingers.

“Indeed,” Izo responds, amusement lacing his words as he leans forward, resting his chin in his hand as he very obviously lets his eyes rack over Hawkins’ body, taking in the muscles of his chest and the way his pants hold tight to his frame. “So I’ve heard that you are talented in reading fortunes with your cards. Could I ask you to read mine?” he asks the other pirate as the bartender sets a glass of sunset-colored liquid in front of him. He takes the cup and raises it to his lips, taking a slow drink. It doesn’t escape his notice that Hawkins’ attention focuses on the slow bobbing of Izo’s throat with every swallow. It’s hard not to preen at having such a stoic man take such a quick interest in him, so Izo doesn’t resist that urge.

“I can, yes.” Hawkins replies as his hands begin to shuffle the tarot cards with more purpose than before. “What question would you like me to answer?”

Izo sets his drink back down on the counter, his lips pulling into a seductive smirk as he asks, “What are my chances of going to bed with you tonight?”

Hawkins doesn’t even hesitate for more than a moment before he stops shuffling his cards altogether. “Ah. Then we will not need the guidance of the cards tonight.”

“Oh?” Izo asks, head tilting in curiosity. “And why is that?”

“I was about to invite you to do the same,” Hawkins says as the slightest of wry grins finds its way onto his lips. Standing up from his seat at the bar, he offers a hand to Izo. “Shall we?”

There’s not a moment of waiting before Izo takes the offered hand and pulls himself to his feet. “Yes, let’s.”


End file.
